A New Determination
by 71daydreamer
Summary: Will and Sonny have not spoken since the whole wedding fiasco. Will has something to say and he is determined to make Sonny listen. Disclaimer - I do NOT own these characters.


I owe Sonny an explanation.

Yes, I owe him. That is what I keep telling myself; but that doesn't stop my hand from trembling as I raise my fist to knock on his door. I rasp my knuckles lightly against the cold metal once, and then twice, fully aware that Sonny is here, having seen his car parked out front. I shuffle my feet and fondle the ties on my jacket, my nerves on edge; I knock a third time.

Oh my God, open the door, Sonny. My hand reaches for the gold key resting in the dark warmth of my jean's pocket. I pull it from its hiding place, reach slowly towards the door knob, and slip it into the lock; but, I can't bring myself to turn it―a simple flick of the wrist and I just can't do it. It would be wrong, wouldn't it? Too much of an intrusion? Even though Sonny has not asked me for the key back, I am assuming that he wouldn't want me to take the liberty of using it. You know…since he didn't even try to stop me in the least when I told him I would get my stuff out of his place and all. I don't blame him, I really don't, but that doesn't make it hurt any less. I sigh and place the key safely back into the confines of my pocket.

It has been three days since I've seen Sonny. The last time we spoke, I told him that in spite of everything, I still loved him. God, so much! I'd finally tracked him down at the coffee shop after the wedding, and I wanted so badly to make him understand the reasons behind what I did. Why I had kept this secret from him. But, Sonny barely spoke to me. He just leaned casually against the counter, twiddling his ball-point pen, making me feel like my presence was nothing more than an annoyance. Hell, I practically had to beg him just to look at me.

Grandma Marlena had told me (just minutes before) not to force anything, so I did what I thought was best in that moment with him―kept it short and sweet―and then left Common Grounds. I walked slowly away from Sonny without a backwards glance, when all I wanted to do was wrap him tightly in my arms, pull him fully against me, bury my face in his beautiful, silky hair, get lost in his intoxicating scent…and never let go. Ever. My heart felt like it was being ripped from my chest as I made my exit from Common Grounds that day, relieved that I made it out the door before my knees gave out on me―the coffee that I had just downed spewing violently from my stomach.

Now, three days later, it has only gotten worse―this gut-wrenching ache―twisting and gnarling my insides tighter by the day, by the hour. God, I miss my boyfriend!

That first night I texted Sonny more times than I can count on both hands. He finally replied with a straight-to-the-point, I need time, Will. I haven't tried to contact him since.

But…I figure by now he's had enough time. I went to Common Grounds earlier today, expecting to have this conversation on more neutral ground; but when I got to the coffee shop I walked in on Sonny in some kind of a group hug with his parents. I didn't want to ruin their intimate moment―and it pained me to think that Sonny probably needed comforting because of me―so I left quietly and road around Salem aimlessly for a couple of hours, rehearsing in the rearview mirror what I would say to Sonny.

Now here I stand at his doorstep waiting for him to answer my knock, and I can't help but wonder if he's been hurting as much as I have―crying himself to sleep at night, or maybe not sleeping at all. I am still tormented by nightmares, but the scenes play out differently now. No more am I seeing my child being taken from me, instead it is Sonny I am losing. In my dreams, he runs from me and no matter how hard I try to catch him, he is always just beyond my reach. I desperately call out to him over and over again, but he never slows down, never even turns around to acknowledge that I'm there chasing after him. It always ends the same―I wake up with a jolt, sitting upright in my bed, arms stretching out, lungs gasping for air, and my heart…crying out for Sonny, begging him to grab hold of me and never let go. But, he's never there, he's never there! So I pull my pillow to my face in an attempt to muffle my broken sobs, hoping that I haven't disturbed my younger siblings...

Suddenly, the January wind sends crunchy maple leaves rustling around my feet, bringing me back to the task at hand. "Sonny, I know you're here." I say rather loudly to the door; I knock softly again. "I have my key, um, your key and I'm coming in. I need…I need to talk to you." This time when I pull the key from my pocket, I don't wimp out, and I use it to gain access to Sonny's apartment.

I slowly push open the door―my heart pounding so fast that I am certain it will explode from my chest at any moment. I fully expect Sonny to be standing on the other side of the threshold, and I brace myself for the hot glare that he surely has been holding onto and saving just for me. But, instead I am greeted with the cold silence of an empty apartment. He's not here. In fact, it doesn't look like he's been here at all. I take a cautious step in―one, two, then three. Nothing. The place still looks exactly like it did when we left for the wedding a few days ago―two coffee mugs sitting on the counter, curtains tightly drawn, bed sheets rumpled, breakfast tray sitting at the foot of the bed, silver gift tin on one pillow, condom wrapper on the other, two tank tops crumpled on the floor―one gray, one black―all forgotten.

Where could Sonny have gone? It's not like him to not have everything in painfully perfect order. I start to panic, my mind racing.

"What are you doing here?" I practically jump out of my skin and know that if I look down I will surely see my blood pooling at my feet.

I turn slowly and Sonny is there, leaning casually against the door frame, looking as magnificent as ever and just the sight of him sends shivers up my spine and makes me weak in the knees. It has to be a sin for something, someone, to be this breath-taking. He rakes his hands through his hair, licks at his bottom lip…and suddenly I am wishing it was my tongue there instead. My mouth goes instantly dry, and I swear the neighbors can hear my stiff, parched swallow.

"Well?" he says dryly. "What do you want?" Sonny shuts the door with a soft click, and throws his keys on the desk with a clang, causing me to jump once more and reminding me of the pounding headache that I've had since my confession. Yea, the one that went over so well.

I'm not sure where to start, and for some reason, I can't stop tugging at the strings on my jacket. "I wasn't sure if you were here. I mean, I saw your car, but then you didn't answer the door when I knocked. I still have the key, but I-I didn't want to use it, but when you didn't answer…" God, I'm rambling. This is not going so well.

"I went for a walk," Sonny seems uninterested in my being here, and I am wondering what he finds so damn fascinating about the small dirt smudge on the carpet that he has shampooed at least a thousand times now.

"It-it must have been a long walk," I say with a crooked grin. I am trying to lighten the mood and calm my nerves with that comment. My attempt at humor back-fires―the tension in this small apartment still so thick that it can be sliced with even the dullest knife in the drawer. "It doesn't look like anyone has been here for days." I add my punch line quietly. That didn't help, and I, too, am now suddenly mesmerized by the smudge.

"Yea? Well, I apologize, Will." Sonny replies, curtly, moving to lean against the edge of his desk. "I wasn't expecting company, and I really haven't been up to playing Suzie Homemaker these last few days."

"No, I know. Of course, not, Sonny; I didn't, um, I-I didn't mean that." I can't stop stammering. Dammit! Our eyes finally meet, and I flinch, slightly startled by what I see there. His eyes have never lied to me, are the windows to his soul, and smoldering within their chocolate debts I can see it all―confusion, sadness, humiliation, desperation, despair…rage. It's all there; his eyes are like an open book and my chest tightens, slowly pushing the oxygen from my lungs where it hangs lifelessly in the air around me.

Sonny looks away abruptly as if he suddenly wants to hide his true self from me, as if he realizes that he's just unwillingly conveyed everything to me―like he knows that everything he was trying to keep safely bottled up inside; his eyes have now given a revealing voice to. It just about kills me, just about sucks the life right out of me.

I reach for Sonny, and it's his turn to flinch, all but climbing onto the desk as he moves away from me―just like my nightmares, except painfully real this time. I pull back, dejected, and I can feel the blood rush to every pore on the surface of my skin. I know that I have gone from pale to crimson in about two seconds. Oh my God! Really?

"Did you get my text, Will? Can't you understand that I just need some time?" Sonny relaxes a little, but keeps a comfortable distance. I nod; he sighs. "What is it that's so urgent?"

"Well, I…okay, okay…" Damn, I can't even form a complete sentence. "Well, what I want is, um…what I want to do is…"

He starts tapping his fingernails lightly on the desk as if to hurry me up. My senses must be fooling me. Is he really doing that? God, that's harsh.

"Sonny?" I am hurt and confused by his coldness. I understand he is angry. We've had our ups and downs before, but I have never seen this side of him. "Do I, um, do I not….mean enough to you for you to listen to me for just a minute?" I know my eyebrows rise with the pitch of my voice, and I feel my forehead wrinkling―an expression that I can't help and one that Sonny usually laughs at.

He's not laughing now. I feel like I have asked a legitimate question. I have, obviously now, asked the wrong one. "Don't do that, Will. Don't you turn this around on me," Sonny snaps, pointing his finger at me as if I don't get it, as if he needs to make sure he gets his point across.

I try again. "Okay," I put my hands up as if to surrender. God, this is hard. "Okay, if you will just give me a chance to-to try and explain―"

In the blink of an eye, Sonny moves swiftly away from the desk and his face is inches from mine. "Explain? Explain what, Will? How 'bout explain how the guy that I love―the same one that is supposed to love me back―tells me lie after lie after lie. How 'bout explain how our so-called perfect relationship," he throws air-quotes at me, "now just seems like a big, damn joke. Explain that!"

Unprepared for this sudden change, Sonny's caught me off guard. This is going downhill fast, and I slowly step away from him until my back is up against the wall. He follows me, leans in toward me and places his palms flat on the wall behind me, one on each side of my head. "Explain to me, Will, how you think it's okay to keep secrets from me after you've promised not to."

"I'm trying to," I squeak. Sonny's nearness, his scent, is making my head spin, his face so close to mine that his hot breath tickles my cheek. My God, I love this exquisite man. I hook my thumbs into his belt loops, a habit I've developed over these last few weeks when I want to pull him closer, but I hesitate now. Sonny is purposefully trying to keep his gaze from mine, staring everywhere except into my eyes. I wonder if this closeness is turning his world upside down like it is mine, my mind on the edge of completely going numb. "If…if you will just look at me and let―"

"But most of all, Will," Sonny sighs as he moves his hands to my hair. He locks his fingers tightly together behind my head, warming my scalp and sending a tingling sensation down my neck and then through my entire spine. I swear I can feel it spreading to my toes. I suddenly remember what it feels like to have those long fingers inside of me and I can't help but squirm.

Sonny moves even closer, adjusts himself to stand completely upright and molds his body flush against mine. He barely whispers in my ear. "Explain to me how…dammit," he stops to clear his throat, shudders once."Explain to me how you can be such a coward…so easily manipulated by Gabi and Nick, and how you can let them ruin the most beautiful…and the most real thing that I have ever had in my life! How could you be so damn weak? Explain that, Will!"

I wonder how something whispered so hatefully, and so completely full of hurt, can be so damn seductive. I feel it in my core, and I am coming undone. I bunch his cobalt blue button-up―the one that he says he likes to wear because it matches my eyes―tightly in my fists to gain some sense of balance. God, I can't think with him this close!

I move my hands up slowly to cup his gorgeous face, twirling the soft tendrils of his hair with my pinkies. I search for his eyes again―this time trying to obtain an unspoken permission for being so bold―but they are closed, wetness on his long, thick lashes. My heart constricts tightly in my chest, I swear I can feel it restricting all blood flow. "God, Sonny," I press my nose to his, and breathe him in. "I am so…so sorry." Our mouths so close now that we are sharing the same oxygen.

He smells so good; I want so badly to taste him. I can't help myself and so I wet my lips and press them softly against his. I don't get much of a response really, but Sonny's not pushing me away either. I tremble as I move in again, this time pressing more firmly against his unbelievably sweet mouth.

Sonny pulls back slightly and finally opens his eyes; a scant tear falls from each one and rolls down his cheeks. I brush the wetness softly away with my trembling thumbs as I fight hard to hold back tears of my own. His eyes are now searching mine and when they connect, I see a heart-wrenching agony, and I am wholly lost.

"I...am…so…Sorry," I whisper again on a ragged breath. "I love you so much."

Sonny sniffles once quietly; then he's licking at that bottom lip again. Suddenly his hands fist tightly in my hair. Holding me closely and securely like this, he angles his face and moves his mouth slowly back towards mine. He hesitates briefly. "Dammit, Will," he whispers. "How do you do this to me?" It's a question that almost sounds like a plea and on that goes unanswered. Time stands still until Sonny finally opens his mouth over mine and slips his tongue deeply in. The raw pleasure of it, of him, of his beauty, makes my breath hitch in the back of my throat, and I struggle briefly for my next breath. We stay like this for a moment tasting and breathing each other in, hanging on for dear life.

He's pressing me fully against the wall now, his hips rubbing mine in a seductive slow rhythm, mimicking the motions of his tongue. He's so damn good at this, and I swear sometimes I think he must have invented it. A soft whimper joins the sound of our struggle for air and I cannot tell from which one of us it escapes from, maybe both.

I know one thing; I want more. I move my hands oh-so-slowly to the waist band of Sonny's jeans and settle them there. He moans rather loudly against my mouth when my knuckles brush lightly against the soft, sensitive skin beneath his belly button. God, the sound of his pleasure and the feel of it vibrating down my throat causes sharp jolts of static throughout my entire body and I am twisting desperately at his rough jean fabric in my hands, shaking with need. Damn, I want him! Just these few minutes with Sonny and my body is already threatening to forcefully eject my release into the soft fabric of my boxers.

Sonny must sense my urgency. He stills my hands with his own and walks me the few steps back toward the bed. His hot mouth never leaves me, angles against mine over and over again, both of us hungry―starved actually. By this this time we are both shallow panting into each other, trembling with a desire―a desire that I had no idea existed until Sonny, one that can only be satisfied by the complete joining of our two bodies into one.

Our kisses are now sloppily wet and uncontrolled; our movements clumsy as we fall with a thud onto the mattress―me flat on my back, Sonny nestled seamlessly between my bent knees, like two puzzle pieces that have just found their perfect match again. Gone are the sweet whispers and soft caresses of the lovemaking Sonny's made to me a dozen times before. His hands are suddenly everywhere pinching, prodding; his teeth nipping and pulling at my now-swollen lips. There is no romance here; this is all about a carnal need, an angry all-consuming lust, an unquenched thirst that has been sorely neglected now for three days…three damn days too many. It's agonizing and I…I love it.

Sonny grinds roughly, urgently against me, the bed posts smack against the wall and I am sure that I see sparks of burgundy paint flying through the air, reminding me of the fireworks that captivated us both on New Year's Eve. God, I need him! I can't help but groan loudly and he answers with a ragged one of his own. Speaking a language now that only the two of us are fluent in, I wrap my legs tightly around his back―lock my arms around his torso―trying my hardest to pull him even closer to me. The comforter is bunched beneath me; frustrated, I reach blindly to relieve myself of this small nuisance. I grasp the fluffy fabric tightly and pull with a determined force until it finally jerks free. The bed protests with a loud creak as if unsure whether to follow Sonny's direction or mine. It carries the magnitude of an 8+ earthquake and the breakfast tray falls noisily to the floor, the cups bouncing against it with a ridiculously loud and shrill clang. Sonny jumps and we are both immediately snapped back into the real world. God, no! This enchanting spell is broken.

Sonny bolts off of the bed, his back to me, running his hands though his hair. "What the hell are we doing?" I think he is probably saying this more to himself than me. He starts pacing at the foot of the bed before deciding to move further away from me, trying to put some distance between us.

I am right there behind him, but not touching him, as he rests his forehead on the door, his chest heaving. My hardness is still straining, quite painfully, against my unforgiving jeans. I cautiously wrap my arms around Sonny's waist from behind him, move my hands softly and slowly down his belly and just over his belt buckle. I am barely making any contact at all, but can easily feel that he is still thickly stiff and gloriously firm, and…oh my God, I want to finish what we've started. I can't help from pushing my groin up against Sonny's perfect, round ass. He freezes, the air hissing on a slow exhale from his body, and I can literally feel him throbbing against my hand through the rough fabric of his jeans. We stay this way for a moment, neither of us moving, except for the trembling of our bodies as we wait for the room to slow down its spinning, stop and sit upright once again.

Finally finding my balance, I move my mouth toward Sonny's ear, my heavy breathing parting his hair along the way. I trace the supple lobe lightly with my tongue, just like Sonny loves, and he rewards me with a quiet grunt before I whisper, "Please, Sonny, I want you. I need you…inside of me." I can barely swallow past the lump in my throat. All of this becomes overwhelming and I can feel moisture begin to invade my eyes. My God! I refuse to cry. Suck it, up, Will!

Sonny sighs loudly, slowly shaking his head. "No, Will," he says softly, still facing the door. "We can't," he pushes my hands away from him. "Because that would be all I can give you right now, just sex. It wouldn't change anything and we'd both end up regretting it. I don't want either of us to ever regret that part of what we had."

"No! Please," I beg into his hair, fully aware of how pathetic I sound right now, but not even remotely able to give a care. "I will take what you are willing to give, Sonny. I can't lose you."

He pushes away from the door and roughly back against me, causing me to trip over my own feet just a little. He reaches out and swings the door open fully. The cold January breeze rushes in, but it does nothing to squelch the heat permeating within this dark room, the warmth that is radiating, almost visibly, from our still-needy bodies. Sonny finally turns and leans against the door frame―finds that damn smudge on the carpet again that fascinates him―and suddenly we're back to where we started just a while ago.

He exhales visibly. "You need to leave, Will" Sonny says, and there goes my blood pooling at my feet again.

"I don't want to leave," I protest. "Sonny, this is the only place I have ever felt like I truly belong! Here with you." The thought of not being in his presence again awakens that gut-wrenching ache in my stomach and suddenly it resumes to stabbing at my insides again―the tears that I am trying to control start to flow freely now. "Please, Sonny, look at me." I manage on a breathy whisper.

He refuses. "I can't. Will, I can't. This has all been a―"

"Don't say it!" Suddenly it's deja vu. We've done this once before and once was more than enough for me. "Don't you dare say this was a mistake! That we're a mistake!" I practically shriek. If we haven't gotten the attention of the neighbors with our ruckus at this point, surely we are giving them something to talk about now. "I-I'm not leaving," I add, a little quieter this time. I am determined and make an attempt to raise my chin to prove it. "Not until you listen to what I have to say. Please, Sonny…let me try. God, I miss you so much."

"Fine," he says. I am relieved. "Then I'll leave." Before I can figure out what he means and how to respond, he grabs his keys from the desk and quickly walks back toward the door, his eyes never meeting mine. He pauses for just a moment in the threshold. "Be gone when I get back, Will. I mean it. That is what I need from you." He walks away without a backwards glance and leaves the door open wide as if to say, the sooner the better.

Sonny's words cut like a knife and send me to the floor; I hold my stomach, dry heaving. My God, what have I done? I can't lose Sonny, my best friend, my lover.

After a few minutes, I feel ridiculous crumpled here on Sonny's floor. I glance up and notice the gold key is still in the lock right where I left it. Get yourself up, Will Horton. Brush yourself off. I rise and make my way toward the gold, shiny metal piece, pull it from the lock and squeeze it tightly in my palm before tossing it on the bed. I take a deep breath and one last look around me, and then I head out of Sonny's apartment. I turn the lock on the doorknob and softly close the door behind me. I lean against the cold metal of the door, not finding the strength to make myself leave this spot.

I can't do it. I just can't leave. I have too much to tell Sonny and I need him to listen to me! I find myself getting angry and wonder if I even have a right to be mad. I am in the wrong here; I know I am. If Sonny would just give me a chance to explain, just give me five minutes of his attention―of his damn precious time―I am sure that I can make him understand. I have to; I have got to get him to listen to me…and I have to get him to understand. Leaving this unresolved is not an option.

With a renewed determination I slide my body slowly down the door until I land with a thump on the cold, prickly doormat. I cross my legs, my elbows propped on my knees, and my chin propped on my fists―my body still fighting for its return to homeostasis. And I wait. I wait right here for Sonny to get home so that we can have a talk―a long overdue, much needed talk, and I am unwavering in my decision to make him listen to me this time.

God, it's cold. I realize it probably would have been better for me to make my monumental decision to stay here before I locked myself out of the apartment. But, I don't care and snicker at the irony of it. I lean my head back, close my eyes, and reach instinctively to tug at the ties on my jacket. I don't care how long I have to sit here and wait. My boyfriend is worth it.

I owe Sonny and explanation.


End file.
